Best Western: Part One
by Shadow's whisper28
Summary: During the day, he was reasonable, a nice traveler. But should you make him mad, He will come for you. He will come, and you will sleep forever. A sort of expiriment, set in a stereotypical western town. Be warned: people die. A lot. T for gore.


**Yeah… best western. That's a hotel XD. Western, adventure… both are new to me. I felt like a change from my usual 'and then they died' stories, so the main character doesn't die or go insane! …Or does he?**

**I disclaim everything. When I rule the world, I will destroy my disclaimers.**

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He crept through the old dusty town, blending with the shadows, silent as death itself. The jagged knife that was held in a clenched hand did not shine, in fact, you could hardly see the blade due to the dried blood coating it.

This knife was never cleaned. It was his personal, sacred knife, only to be used to take the lives of others. And tonight, that stupid bartender was going to pay.

The red bandanna around his nose and mouth prevented him from breathing in the dust that made up the streets and coated everything else. Ganon didn't mind the dust. It muffled his footsteps, and blew away the imprints by morning. To him, there was no greater thrill than seeking revenge. To make it harder on himself, he only killed during the full moon. A serial killer, of sorts. The only difference was that when he killed, Ganondorf didn't go by a name. He was a nobody, just a shadow of death in the night. By day he was Ganondorf, innocent traveler, riding on a thoroughly useless (in his opinion) pony named Wario.

But now He was nameless, with Wario stabled at the inn he had been at. And there was the bar. He grinned at the saloon doors before ducking under.

At this hour, no one was here. The chairs and tables had been straightened in an orderly fashion, glasses stacked neatly behind the bar. The bartender lived on the second floor. He hated it when there were two floors. The stairs creaked, and occasionally broke. Gritting his teeth, He began tiptoeing up. Fortunately for him, the bartender slept like a rock, and nothing broke.

The bartender's room was fairly small, and quite messy. Dirty clothes were strewn about, so thick you almost couldn't see the light pinewood floor. It was sparsely furnished, containing only a bed, dresser, and chair, the latter barely distinguishable beneath the piled chaps and jackets. The dresser drawers were open, and empty. He picked his way through the mess to the bedside.

The bartender himself wasn't that tall, maybe 5' 4", and had a small mess of bright blond hair. His skin was quite pale, most likely from spending day after day in the back of his dark bar, serving drinks to the townsfolk. Lucas, if He remembered correctly.

He grinned. This was going to be fun.

Lifting the blood-crusted knife, He held it over Lucas's bare chest, watching it rise and fall below the tip. His smile grew larger. With the anticipation of a child, He tapped Lucas's shoulder. The man shook his head, drooling slightly, and tried to brush the hand away.

This is where his arm encountered the knife.

The smile stretched into a huge grin, the teeth crooked and yellowed. The terrified bartender's eyes had snapped open, suddenly fully awake and aware that he soon wouldn't be. Lucas's eyes flickered to his bleeding arm, then back to He's shadowed face.

"I just thought you'd want to be awake when I put you to sleep." His voice was raspy and cracked from the dust and disuse after yelling at this very bartender earlier. He flashed his smile again, then plunged the deep crimson knife into the chest.

Shining crimson blood flowed out of the wound, faster at first, then slowing down to a gentle ooze. He pushed the knife down to the hilt, then pulled it out with a dull suction sound. He examined the blade for a moment. It was no longer dull, for a new layer had covered the old, shining brightly in the moonlight. Allowing the maniacal grin to fade into a crooked smile, He pushed open the window, falling gently to the dusted streets below. A small cloud of dust rose around the disturbance his feet made.

Satisfied, He crept down the road to the hotel.

_So go ahead and get mad never talk to me again  
>I don't even care 'cause I got my<em>

_Revenge_  
><em>Revenge<em>  
><em>Got my revenge<em>

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**The song was Revenge by the Plain White T's. … I heard the song about two minutes after I finished the chapter. Hooray for find songs by lyrics! So… like? Don't like? Next few chapters will hopefully be longer. Also, the story is part one of two, and as you can guess, part two isn't up yet XD. I say this because I'm reserving most of the Brawlers for part two. Read and Review! Flames will be used to toast marshmallows. **

**~For those of you who didn't get it, Ganondorf refers to himself as 'He'.~**


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